


Nathema

by Lumielles



Category: Star Wars Legends: The Old Republic
Genre: Angst, Canon-adjacent, F/M, Family, Gen, Marriage Proposal, Reunions, Romance, dad!Theron, general star wars space opera-ness, long fic, ships exploding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-26
Updated: 2018-07-26
Packaged: 2019-06-16 14:51:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,304
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15439500
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lumielles/pseuds/Lumielles
Summary: So here are 10,000 words nobody asked for.  Aramys’ version of The Nathema Conspiracy, with some extra angst thrown in.  This ended up becoming several fics all pasted together, but I’m proud of it.  Tons of things happen, Theron meets Danna, Aramys and Idan bond more, Idan meets Theron, it’s all good.  But for the sake of time, and my sanity, I did cut a few things out.





	Nathema

**Author's Note:**

> Reminder, Aramys' father is Idan, who is also my Jedi Consular. But he didn't join the Jedi until he was 32, after surrendering as a Sith Acolyte to Republic troops. He's been out of contact with Aramys for seventeen years. Then he was imprisoned during the Yavin Coalition by Saresh after word spread that Aramys, a Dark Council member, was his daughter. He's only returned into Aramys and Petra's lives for a few weeks.

_Nathema._

_Nathema, Nathema, Nathema._

            The single word berated her as she slept, her petite frame awkwardly arched around the infant that slept beside her.  Her mind was usually so filled with nightmares about Theron, but tonight the only thing she could dream about was Odessen under siege.  The Eternal Fleet being burnt to ash, she could feel the smoke in her lungs.  The looming shadow of the Gravestone making the sky go dark.  She was drowning in the dark, the black clutching at her throat and blinding her.

            Still, the echo of someone whispering ‘Nathema,’ haunted the endless void around her.  Slowly growing louder and louder until the only thing she could do was scream back.

            “Aramys!” she heard Theron’s voice, distant.  Something grabbed her arm, yanking her from the shadows that consumed her.  His arms were around her, holding her against him to fight off the darkness.

            “Theron?” she said softly, her senses returning.

            “Listen to me; you have to get to Nathema,” he said.  He was standing right in front of her, but he sounded so far away. 

            “What?  Is that where you are?  Are you in trouble?” she asked, searching his face for any kind of emotional distress.  He looked calm, but there was an urgency in his voice that betrayed him.

            “Nathema,” he repeated, “They’ve found it.”

            “I get it, Nathema.  But are you alright?”

            “I’ll find you,” he said in a whisper.

            Aramys’ eyes shot open, gasping for breath.  Sitting up, she looked down at sleeping Danna, who had gone undisturbed by her mother’s rude awakening.  Aramys gently put her hand over her daughter’s chest, feeling the fast little heartbeat.  The rhythmic pulse soothed her racing thoughts.

            “Nathema,” she mumbled to herself, still half asleep.  She outstretched her arm, fumbling for her com in the dark.  Her wandering fingers searched the bedside table until they found it near the lamp.

            “Lana,” she said into it, making sure to keep her voice down, “Are you awake?”

            “Always,” came the reply a few seconds later, followed by a yawn.

            “Meet me in the War Room?”

            “Already on my way,” Lana said.

            Clipping the comm to her shirt, she carefully lifted herself from the bed.  She secured a border of pillows around Danna.  Without turning on a light, she dressed herself the best she could.  She wasn’t about to risk waking her daughter, who had proved herself to be a terrible sleeper. Stirring her now would only bring on a fit to rival Thanaton.

            By the time she made it to the war room, Lana was already frowning over a console.

            “You look worse than Naga Sadow’s corpse,” Lana said, noticing the purplish bags under Aramys’ eyes.  Her skin was so light; it would become almost translucent on days where she barely slept.

            “Thanks, I’ve been working on my Dark Lord look,” Aramys grumbled, rubbing her eyes.

            “Spot on, then,” Lana said, “So what’s this all about?”

            “Do we have any reports mentioning Nathema?” Aramys asked, leaning against the console.

            “Nathema?” Lana echoed.

            “Yes, Nathema. Force, if I hear that planet’s name again I’m going to snap,” Aramys lifted a hand to her forehead, pushing back her hair.

            “Not that I’m aware of…  Did you hear something?”

            Up until now, Aramys had been keeping her dream rendezvouses with Theron to herself, understandably worried that she’d sound like a lunatic.  As far as her knowledge in the force went, and it went reasonably far, sharing dreams with a lover wasn’t something she had ever read about.  As Zash’s apprentice, the latter half of her teenage years had been spent with her nose in ancient texts; and yet she was utterly mystified by an energy she had thought she conquered.

            If anyone would be able to understand her newest ability, it’d be Lana.  She had spent more time studying the force than Aramys.

            “Sort of,” Aramys allowed her voice to trail off.

            “You know I hate it when you’re ominous,” Lana said, crossing her arms over her chest.

            “It was a dream, or a premonition—” Aramys flitted her hand in the air as if to wave off the idea.

            “About Nathema?’

            “Someone was telling me to go there, that they’d find me.”

            “It was Theron, wasn’t it?” Lana asked, deadpan.  Her nostrils flared as she scrunched her face into a scowl.

            “No point in lying to you,” Aramys shrugged.

            “There is absolutely nothing you can say that will convince me to trust a word he says.  Dream or not.”

            “I think we should check it out.”

            “And walk right into a trap.”

            “If there’s nothing there, we’ll leave.  Simple reconnaissance.”

            “Even if I say no, you’re going to go, aren’t you?”

            “I have every right, as the Commander of the Alliance.  A title you gave me yourself.”

            “Probably my worst mistake yet,” Lana scoffed.

            “Come on,” Aramys said, “You said it yourself, I’m going whether or not you agree.  Might as well come with me to—”

            “Ensure that your daughter doesn’t lose the only parent she has left?” Lana cut her off.

            “You’re telling me you’re worried about Danna?”

            “Someone has to be.”

            “Lana, you’ve never not trusted me before, why start now?”

            Hours could have passed as Lana stared at her, expressionless.  Heavy breathing undermined her attempt to hide frustration. 

            “Fine,” she said, glaring back down at her console.

            “My ship in an hour.  Find Andronikos, tell him we need a pilot.”

            “Do we really need him?”

            “No one flies my ship better than he does.”

            “I don’t want to do this,” Lana grumbled under her breath.

            “I know,” Aramys smirked, walking away.  Her steps felt a little lighter, the dark haze she’d been living in the past few weeks lifting like a morning fog.  The idea of Theron being so close, it gave her hope she hadn’t felt in quite some time.

            “Aramys, wait!” Lana called out, “Hylo found a lead on the Order of Zildrog, I was hoping to discuss—”

            “Lana,” Aramys said, looking over her shoulder as she came to a halt, “I think Hylo can manage to investigate the lead on her own.”

            “I really can’t change your mind?” Lana asked.

            Aramys didn’t answer, instead, flipping her black hair as she continued to retreat to her quarters. 

 

* * *

 

 

            As she had expected, Aramys found her father by the waterfall outside of the base, sitting cross-legged at the edge of the basin.  She could often catch him meditating here as the dawn broke, sneaking out here before the day began.  Today however, he was pulling at the weeds that grew at the water’s edge, mindlessly uprooting them as he stared off at nothing.

            “Dad?” Aramys said, approaching him.  She swatted at a bug that flew into her vision.

            Idan blinked, breaking from him disassociation.  His hunched posture straightened as he returned to himself.

            “Are you okay?”

            “I’m fine,” Idan forced a smile as he looked up at her.  He unfurled his spindly legs from beneath him as he stood, wincing as his knees protested to the change.  “Just—thinking.”

            “I need to ask you a favor,” she mumbled.

            “Anything, love.”

            “There’s a lead on Theron, so I was wondering if you could watch Danna—”

            “Who’s going with you?”

            “Lana.”

            “Only Lana?  Aramys, you’re going to need more than two of you.  What if the entire order is there waiting for you in some kind of ambush?”

            “Not you too,” Aramys grumbled, “Dad, you need to trust me.”

            “I’d feel better if I went with you,” Idan said, his voice lowering.

            “I need you to stay here.”

            “Why?” Idan’s brow furrowed, “I can do more than babysit my granddaughter—”

            “I know, that’s why I’m—”

            “I’m not some useless old man, Aramys; I’m only 50—”

            “Would you stop?  I know!” Aramys said through gritted teeth, “That’s why I’m trusting the Alliance to you while I’m gone!”

            “You’re what?” Idan asked in disbelief. 

            “I’m putting you in charge while Lana and I are gone.”

            “That’s an awful idea,” Idan shook his head, gray hair falling into his eyes.

            “Wha—Why?” Aramys did her best to stifle a chuckle.

            “It seems a lot to ask for the Alliance to trust my judgment, I’ve barely been here two months.”

            “Half these people remember you as the Barsen’thor.  Believe me, they trust you.”

            “Aramys, I don’t know…” Idan shuffled his feet, obviously unnerved by the idea of being her stand in.

            “If anyone gives you a difficult time, just tell Senya.  She’ll be more than happy to settle the issue,” Aramys assured him.

            “Why not ask Senya then?”

            “Because I asked you,” Aramys said, so matter-of-factly that Idan couldn’t think of a response.

            “I want you to be careful, then,” Idan said, “So I don’t find myself in the position full time.”

            “I’ll try, but if I come back one arm short, I swear it wasn’t my fault.”

            “Aramys,” Idan exhaled through his nose, frowning.  He was giving her a look that she hadn’t seen in decades; a fatherly scold that made it clear her sarcasm wasn’t appreciated.

            “Of course I’ll be careful,” Aramys said.

            “And if this boy—Theron—If he’s there—”

            “He’s hardly a boy,” Aramys snorted, earning herself another glare.

            “If Theron is there,” he continued, “Please consider the fact that he might not be on our side as you expect.  I don’t want to see you hurt because he tricked you again.”

            Aramys remained quiet, holding her father’s stare.  Nibbling on her lower lip, she briefly allowed herself to second guess her feeling that Theron was secretly on their side.  Nothing had confirmed it yet, nothing but the specter of Theron she saw in those while dreams they’d been sharing.  It was possible that those dreams were created by her imagination, conjured up by the profound emptiness his betrayal had caused within her.

            “I know that,” she said, choking on the words as they stuck in her throat.  Idan noticed the change in tone and took several steps toward her, enveloping her in an embrace.

            “You might be right though,” he said warmly, “You’ve always had amazing intuition when it came to others.”

            “Pretty sure that was just the Force,” Aramys mumbled into his shoulder.

            “Probably,” Idan laughed, holding her tighter.  “Be careful, Aramys, I can’t stand to lose you again.”

            His voice shook, she could feel him tense up as the idea of her dying swam through his mind.  She couldn’t even begin to imagine what seven years in solitary prison would be like, how lonely he must have been.  They hadn’t really taken the time to talk about what he’d been through; there wasn’t time.  Both she and her mother could tell he was tormented by what he’d been through.  Aramys hoped there would be time to help him when she returned

            “I promise,” Aramys said, hugging him back.  She buried her face into his gray tunic, greatly appreciating the fact that he still smelled just as she remembered, like rain-soaked plants drying off in the midday sun.  She couldn’t stand the idea of losing him again, either.

 

* * *

 

            Nathema filled the viewport as Andronikos dropped the ship out of hyperspeed.  Aramys remembered Nathema as a barren beige wasteland, but the planet she saw now had spots of green and blue.

            “Well, that looks different,” Aramys hummed, leaning over her pilot’s shoulder.

            “You’ve been here before?” Andronikos asked.

            “Once.” She said, “Though at the time it was more barren than that sandpit I found you on.”

            “Do you feel that?” Lana said from a co-pilot chair.

            Aramys looked around the cockpit before closing her eyes and searching the force.  Nothing felt off-kilter, the force flowed smoothly.  She could sense the life of the planet below as if it was growing right in front of her.

            “No, I don’t feel anything unusual,” she said, opening her eyes again.

            “Exactly,” Lana hit a few keys on her console, “Last time we were here, we both felt awful.  Everything felt wrong and empty.  Now I don’t feel a thing out of the ordinary.”

            “Valkorion’s death appears to be beneficial to more than just—well everyone really.” Aramys quipped.

            “We still need to be on our guard for… whatever’s down there.”  Lana squinted at the viewport.  “I managed to decipher the encrypted message Hylo found on that abandoned station while we were in hyperspace…”

            “And?” Aramys asked, brow arched.

            “Well they found hours of footage from Odessen, and all over the galaxy, they must have hidden cameras all over the base or something.” She looked up, waiting for Aramys’ reaction.

            “They’ve been spying on us?” she asked angrily.

            “For months, recording everything we say and do.”

            “Did they find anything else?”

            “They—Yes.  One other thing.” Lana said, looking back down at the console.

            “Which was what?”

            “It was a set of coordinates for somewhere on Nathema,” Lana turned from the console, lips pressed together in a grimace.  “Written in an encryption Theron and I developed on Rishi.”

            “Ah—” Aramys opened her mouth.

            “Don’t mistake that for me believing he’s on our side.” Lana cut her off, “This could still be a trap.”

            “I believe in him,” Aramys said.

            “It’s fascinating how you managed to make it onto the Dark Council, being so gullible.

            “It’s not gullibility; it’s optimism.”

            “First time for everything, I suppose,” Lana said cheekily.

            “That’s enough,” Aramys snapped, surprising Lana.  “I’m no longer in the mood.”

            Lana watched her storm out of the cockpit and back into the main hold of her ship, leaving behind a chill in the air.  Both she and Andronikos had been stunned by her sudden shift in tone.

            “Man, you must have really pissed her off,” Andronikos chuckled.

            “Shut up,” Lana rolled her eyes as she followed Aramys out of the cockpit.

            “Yeah, I don’t like you either,” Andronikos growled,  knowing she could still hear him.

            “Aramys, are we really doing this?” Lana caught up to her by the exit ramp.

            “Did you give the coordinates from the listening post to Andronikos?” she asked, ignoring Lana’s inquiry.

            “Yes,” Lana said.

            “Andronikos, take us down there please,” she said into the ships comm.  Finding her lightsaber in the storage locker, she clipped it to her belt.  “Here, take these.”

            Lana opened her hand to accept the rations Aramys held out to her, storing them in her belt. 

            “Planning on staying overnight?” she asked.

            “You never know, these days.” Aramys shrugged.

 

* * *

           

            The landing zone was clear of any sign of the Order of Zildrog or even any sign of life.

            “Where even are we?” Aramys asked, looking behind her to check on the ship.

            “I’m surprised there wasn’t a bunch of thugs here waiting for us,” Lana said, looking around.

            “Wait, over there,” Aramys’ head snapped to a rock formation, sensing the presence of someone behind it.

            Lana immediately unclipped her lightsaber, igniting it in the direction of the formation. “Come out, and maybe I’ll think twice about splitting you in two,” she threatened.

            “Whoa, easy Lana,” a low voice said, as a figure stepped out from behind the boulder with his hands up, “It’s just me.”

            “Theron!” Aramys said in an exhale, restraining herself from running into his arms.  Her body began to shiver.

            Lana’s eyes narrowed as she pointed her saber, the red blade at level with his throat.  Theron slowly reached to his belt, unholstering his blaster.  No one even took a breath as he dropped it to the ground and kicked it in their direction.

            “I had to get you somewhere the Order wouldn’t notice,” Theron said, raising his hands back over his head.

            He paused, expecting some kind of retort from one of them.  Lana and Aramys stayed silent, watching him.  Aramys hung behind Lana, looking at him with an unreadable expression.

            “I managed to give them the slip, but we’re kind of running short of time here,” Theron said.

            “Everyone said I was crazy to trust you, but I knew that was you in my dream.  I knew you’d come back,” Aramys said, her stomach knotting as hot tears blurred her vision.  She held them back, watching Theron’s hands fall back down to his side as he kicked at the dirt below him.  He looked at the ground, unable to meet her eyes.

            “I don’t deserve your trust after what I did—” he began, looking everywhere but at her.

            “Hmph,” Lana scoffed, steadying her lightsaber.  She hoped the daggers she was staring at him where noticed.

            “Lana, put down the lightsaber,” Aramys said, taking several steps past her and towards Theron.

            Without much resistance, Lana nodded.  The blade deactivated as she clipped it back onto her belt.

            “I can’t tell you everything now, but I found out about the order through some old underworld contacts.  It took months to find a solid lead, even longer to actually find them.  And the entire time, they were watching us.  By the time I found them, they’d nearly figured the whole Zildrog thing out, so I knew I had to slow them down long enough for the Alliance to catch up,” Theron said, staying his distance.

            Aramys watched him thoughtfully, nodding along to his words, while Lana remained steadfast with her grimace.  Theron finally found himself able to look at Aramys, feeling relief as he saw her listening to him.  She wore a new tunic, one that did its best to hide the remaining postpartum bump.  It was blue, a color she rarely wore.  Of course, black was still the majority of her ensemble, leather shoulder pads and boots matched her black belt.  It was taking everything he had not to run at her, hold her in his arms and never let go for as long as he lived. 

            “I had to infiltrate them, work from the inside,” he continued, running a hand over the mohawk.  “The only way to get Ven Atrius to trust me was to—was to betray you.”

            He avoided looking at her again, shuffling in the dirt.

            “It wasn’t the only way,” Aramys said, her nose crinkling as she scowled at him.  “You could have come to me—”

            “I couldn’t!” Theron insisted, “The damn GEMINI droid was watching everything we did.  Telling you would risk the whole operation.  I needed my betrayal to look real.”

            “I can’t even begin to describe how kriffing awful it felt, putting you through that, especially after I found out you were—” Theron cut himself off, looking back to her.  Hazel met brown, begging with her to listen to him.  “But I swore I’d do anything to protect you, remember?”

            Thousands of words sat on her tongue, things she had been hoping to get the chance to say.  Things that burned through her every night as she repeatedly went through the stages of grief.  Half of her wanted to kiss him; the other half wanted to scream at the top of her lungs and punch him.  He looked miserable, standing in front of her with his head down.  Lana shifted beside her, still watching Theron through a glare.

            “I remember,” Aramys said, the words coming out softer than she had intended.

            Theron allowed the hint of a smile to tug at the corner of his mouth, the smallest flicker of hope igniting inside him.  He took a step closer to her.

            “If anything happened to you, I couldn’t—” he choked, voice trembling, “You mean everything to me.”

            Theron shrank before them, wilting in his sudden vulnerability.  He was putting everything on the table, being more open than he’d ever been before.  Even Lana saw the genuinity of his words, the way he held himself in shame and uncertainty.  His life was officially in their hands, and he knew that.

            “So,” Lana cleared he throat, to cut the tension, “You infiltrated the Order and learned their plans?  What are we up against?”

            Theron straightened himself, returning to his usual demeanor. 

            “They managed to find Zildrog, in one of the Emperor’s vaults,” he said confidently, “Guess old Valkorion kept it as some kind of failsafe.  The Order is almost finished with the final preparations.  Once they activate Zildrog…  It’s the end of the Alliance.”

            Aramys’ mind went to home, to her daughter, to her parents and friends.  All on Odessen, waiting for her to return.  If she failed here--if _they_ failed here, it could mean the end for all of them.  Her breath hitched as she forced the thought back down.

            “I—uh—I stalled them with false data for as long as I could, but we’re running out of time.  If we do something now, we can stop the Order before they activate Zildrog.  I managed to set up some blind spots so that we can reach the vault pretty much undetected—”

            “We’re supposed to just trust you, after what you put us through?” Lana said sharply, “How do we know this isn’t some kind of set up?”

            “I know you don’t believe him, Lana,” Aramys said, “But I do.  Least you can do is trust me.”

            “I will follow you, Aramys.  Whatever you decide.  But following you doesn’t mean I trust him.”

            “Fair enough,” Aramys nodded, accepting the answer.

            “We need to get moving,” Theron said, leading the way.

            “Thank you, Lana,” Aramys whispered to her as she followed.

            “Thank me when we get off of this planet alive,” Lana sighed.

           

* * *

 

            “That’s one big door,” Aramys said as the three of them came to stand before a stone door that blocked their path.

            “That wasn’t closed when I left,” Theron grumbled, coming to stand beside her.

            “Well it’s closed now,” Lana said, “Know the way through?”

            “Yeah, give me a second—”

            Just as Theron stepped up to the console, the holoprojector came to life.  A blonde woman appeared.  One Aramys couldn’t recognize, but the presence she felt through the force was unmistakable.

            “Oh for kriff sake,” Aramys moaned to herself.

            “My enterprising Apprentice, all grown up!” came the ever so upbeat voice of her old Master, “You’ve done well for yourself, haven’t you?”

            “Well look at you, Zash, you look so much better than when I last saw you.  In a box.” Aramys said, deadpan.

            “A wonderful surprise, isn’t it?  Some poor idiot girl got tricked into trading places with me in that awful prison you—”

            “You tried to kill me, “ Aramys butted in, “It was the least I could do.”

            “You were always my first choice, Apprentice, don’t be jealous.” Zash chided, her voice smooth like honey and just as deceptively sweet.

            “Believe me, you haggard old crone, no one’s jealous.”

            “Don’t get too cocky, Aramys, because once the Order wrings the life from your body, I’ll take it for my own.  You always did have a habit of letting your overconfidence blind you—”

            Aramys speared the projector with her saber, ending the transmission with sparks and melted metal.

            “Rotton bitch,” Aramys spat as she deactivated her saber. “How the hell did Atrius manage to find her?”

            “She found us, actually,” Theron answered.

            “Just when you’re sure she’s dead, she always manages to sprout back up again.  Is death no longer a permanent thing?” Aramys hit the console by the door, opening it and allowing them to continue on their way.

            “How much farther is it?” Lana asked.

            “A bit farther, down here,” Theron pointed down a path veering left, “So, uh, Aramys?”

            “Yes?” she said, walking beside him.

            “How the, uh—our—the baby?”

            “She’s fine; she’s with my parents on Odessen.”

            “Parents?” Theron’s eyes widened.  Last time he checked, only her mother was on Odessen, and her father had died seventeen years ago.

            “Oh, right, yes—My father—Well, your father found my father alive in prison on Coruscant.”

            “Wait, really?”

            “Yes, Jace freed him and brought him to Odessen.”

            “Wow, that’s—neat.  I mean that’s great, I know how much you missed him,” Theron scratched his jaw, “So what’d you name her?”

            “I think this would be a discussion better suited for the trip back,” Lana pushed between them, taking lead of the group, “After all, we are on a tight schedule.”

            “Yeah, I guess you’re right,” Theron mumbled, watching Aramys looked back ahead of her, silently agreeing with Lana.

 

* * *

 

            The smell of old musk assaulted her senses as they quietly descended the carved stone steps into the cavern where Zildrog was held.  Atrius’ back was turned, as was the GEMINI droids.  Surprise was their advantage as they charged forward, Theron leading the way.

            “You!” Atrius shouted as Theron aimed his blaster, shooting him square in the chest.  The Zakuulan fell fast, crying out as he went down.

            “Been meaning to do that for ages,” Theron smirked, as an energy shield formed around them.  “Ah, crap,” he hit the shield with the butt of his blaster, but it bounced off.

            “This wasn’t part of the plan; I take it?” Aramys said, looking around the cavern.

            “Ha ha,” Theron growled.

            “You organics work so hard for your survival.  But you are too late,” GEMINI said, her cold robotic voice sending a chill down Aramys’ back, “The thrones have been filled, Zildrog is summoned.”

            Aramys looked at what GEMINI called thrones, seeing a Natulan, as well as the body Zash currently possessed.  At least she wouldn’t have to take care of her old Master herself.

            “What happened to them?” Aramys asked, more to herself.

            “They served a purpose,” GEMINI stated plainly.  “Fuel for Zildrog’s awakening.”

            The massive machine behind GEMINI began to glow with yellow light, its spires reaching up toward the cavern’s ceiling like a giant claw.  It hummed to life, stone below their feet shake.

            “First,” GEMINI continued, “He will destroy the shackles that kept me enslaved to your kind.  Then, he’ll obliterate your pathetic Alliance, as a reward to Atrius for playing his part.

            “Do you expect me to believe that that machine can wipe out an entire planet without a weapon?” Aramys taunted the droid.

            “What stands before us is only Zildrog’s mind,” the droid turned away, looking up at the machine like it was a deity.  “I’ll show you just how little you understand.  The time has finally come.  Zildrog awakens.”

            “Theron,” Aramys looked to him, worried.  He clenched his teeth, barring them at the droid’s back.  The machine grew louder as the light grew, the echo of its engine reverberating off the stone walls around them, making the sound nearly impossible to bare.

            “Not since I consumed this planet have I felt such hunger!” a robotic voice declared as the yellow holograph resembling a human face appeared above the machine.  “Give me a target, let me feed!”

            “Zildrog, I presume,” Aramys said, standing close to Theron.

            “Shit,” Theron said through his teeth as the holographic face turned bright red.

            “Execute formation 2995,” GEMINI said.

            “Theron, what does that mean?” Aramys grabbed his arm, making him look at her.

            “I don’t know,” he said, brows knitted together.

 

* * *

 

            Idan stood in the War Room on Odessen, pinching the bridge of his nose as he began to feel the ground beneath him shake.  Across the room, Petra was bouncing a smiling Danna on her lap, babbling to her grandmother.

            “What’s that?” Senya said from beside Idan, standing alert.

            “I don’t know,” Idan watched the lights overhead flicker.

            “Hey, uh—We got a problem here!” Koth shouted over the comm.

            “What is it?” Senya demanded.

            “The Gravestone is entering orbit, and there’s nothing I can do to stop it,” he said.

            “It’s what?” Idan’s voice rose several octaves.

            “I’m getting several more reports saying the same thing; the Gravestone left its dock,” Senya said, looking up from a datapad.

            “Shit,” Idan cursed, “See if we can reach Aramys.

 

* * *

 

            “IT IS DONE.” Zildrog declared loudly.

            “What was that?” Lana said, panicked.

            “I’m not sure,” Theron answered her, his voice clipped.

            The comm on Aramys’ wrist went off.  It was her father.

            “What is it?” she said, lifting her wrist to her face.

            “Uh, yes, we seem to be having some kind of issue with the Gravestone,” Idan said, his voice distorted by static.

            “What’s going on?”

            “The Gravestone took off on its own; it’s headed into orbit—Oh no—” Idan trailed off.

            “Dad?  Dad! Dad, what is it?” Aramys shouted into the comm.  There were several seconds of silence that tore through her like razors.  Every one of her worst fears seemed possible; she could lose everyone.

            “The Gravestone, it’s—It’s destroyed the Eternal Fleet—” he said in horror, “Aramys, what do you want me to do?”

            “All this time—Zildrog was—How is this happening?”  Lana stammered, in shock.

            “I want you to evacuate Odessen as fast as you can,” Aramys said into her comm, “Get yourselves and Danna off that planet!”

            “I—” Idan cut off into static again, “I’ll do whatever I can.”

            “Don’t die,” Aramys ordered.

            “Don’t plan to, love,” Idan managed to say before the comm cut off.

            Theron stood beside her, locking eyes with her.  Without words they promised each other they’d do whatever it took to get back to their daughter.

            “GATHERING POWER,” Zildrog said, the holo face flickering in and out.  The energy shield around them fell as the face disappeared.

            “Inconvenient,” GEMINI said, “It appears I’ll have to eliminate you myself.”

            “We have to destroy the power sources, stop Zildrog from recharging,” Theron pointed them out.

            “You and Lana do that, I’ll take care of the droid,” Aramys said, unclipping her dualsaber.  She and the purple blade flew past him in a force influenced whirl, striking at GEMINI with everything she had.

            GEMINI lacked a defensive weapon, so the battle was short.  As best it could, the droid tried to keep Aramys from destroying the thrones and those sitting in them, but it was useless.  By the time Aramys made it to Zash, she almost felt a little sorry for the woman.  Tricked again by the promise of power.  That feeling vanished as she struck at the throne with her saber, watching it and Zash both die.

            “This time, stay dead,” Aramys said under her breath, rushing as GEMINI again.  A few more hits from Theron’s blaster and Lana’s saber caused the droid to go down in a flurry of sparks.

            “You too,” Aramys growled at the pile of metal GEMINI had become.  She kicked at it with her boot as Theron took off toward Zildrog.

            “We need to shut this thing down before it has a chance to attack again,” Theron said, coming to a stop in front of the machine.  “I think I can slice into it…”

            Aramys barely had the chance to look up from the scrap metal when she heard Lana cry out.  Through the force, Aramys felt as if she’d just been struck through with a lightsaber.  It knocked the breath out of her as she spun around just in time to see Atrius pull his saber from Theron’s back.

            Her blood turned to ice, and she found herself unable to move.  It was like her feet were planted in duracrete.  She couldn’t even look away as Theron crumpled to the ground at Atrius’ feet.

            Atrius flung Theron’s limp body across the cavern, crashing it into Lana and sending them both to the ground.  Somewhere inside her, Aramys found the strength to move, rushing over to them and kneeling next to Theron as he collapsed again.

            “Theron!” Aramys cried, a flood of tears cascading down her cheeks.  She pressed her hand against his chest, feeling the faint heartbeat.

            “He’s still alive, go take care of Atrius,” Lana urged her, “I’ve got Theron.”

            Aramys stood but didn’t move, looking between Atrius and Theron.  Atrius was plugging some kind of code into the machine, reanimating Zildrog.  He turned, stumbling a few steps away from Zildrog, holding his hand to the blaster wound in his abdomen.

            “I’ve sacrificed too much to let you ruin my one last chance at vengeance!” Atrius limped toward her,  “Zildrog will destroy Odessen, and you’ll finally know how it feels to lose _everything_!”

            “I’ll tear you apart!” Aramys shouted, igniting her saber, “For what you did to Theron, and for what you did to my family!”

            “There’s the true Alliance Commander!” Atrius nearly cackled like a madman, “It’s time to end your murderous reign, once and for all!”

            Searing hatred for Atrius flowed through her like molten lava, burning her veins and very bones.  She felt the creeping Dark Side at the edges of her psyche; it was something she hadn’t accessed since she’d been an Acolyte.  Using her anger to make the force bend to her will, like she did before she knew better.  A forgotten teenage will, wild and unhinged, flooded her senses.  Her lightsaber connected with Atrius with a thunderous clap as she lunged at him.

            Twirling around him in an impressive show of swordplay and acrobatics, Aramys wore him down.  He was brought to his knees in a flurry of purple light as he heard Zildrog fail to power up behind him.

            Across the cavern, Lana was tending to Theron the best she could with what little first aid she had.  Propping him up against a chunk of stable rock, she removed the small kolto kit from her belt.

            “I think I’m gonna need more than that,” Theron said weakly, erupting into a cough.

            “Shut up,” Lana grumbled, “I’m not going to let you die before we decide what to do with you.”

            She glanced over her shoulder, watching as Aramys shot lightning from her fingers, defending herself from an attack.

            “We’ll get you back to Odeseen,” she said, turning back to him, “You’ll be fine.”

            “I’m sorry, Lana,” Theron rasped, the smallest amount of blood staining the corners of his lips.

            “Stop talking.”

            “Tell Aramys I’m sorry too, okay?”

            “You can tell her yourself,” Lana injected him with kolto, slamming the injector into his thigh.

            “FAILING.” Zildrog echoed.

 

* * *

 

            “Come on, then, up you go,” Idan offered his hand to a woman boarding an evacuation shuttle.  Above them in orbit hovered the Gravestone, casting a threatening shadow across the base.  Lucky for him, Aygo and Jorgan managed to keep everything organized, and everyone was boarding the shuttles in an orderly fashion.  The only screaming was coming from Danna, whose red face was covered in tears.

            As some of the last people were boarding, Idan looked up into the sky.  The Gravestone had almost finished it’s turn; its omnicanon would crack this planet in half in seconds.  Most of these people weren’t going to make it off in time.  Ice traveled up his back, locking eyes with Petra.

            She was holding Danna against her, bobbing up and down, trying to soothe the child.  Her own face was wet from crying.  She looked at the sky, then back to Idan.  He practically flew down the ramp to meet them, rushing them into the shuttle with the last several evacuees.

            As the doors to the shuttle began to close, Idan grabbed Petra’s hand, bringing it to his chest.  He shook his head, unable to think of the words to say.  He had failed his family again; there was no way their shuttle would make it into space in time. 

            An explosion shook the entire base and the shuttle that still sat on one of the launch pads.  Out the shuttle window, they could see the top of the base, the Command Center, explode.

            “Look!” shouted one of the shuttles pilots, pointing out the viewport to the sky, where the Gravestone had been torn apart.

            “What in the—” Idan said, pressing himself against a window.  “She did it!”

            The shuttle erupted with a cheer as Idan took Petra and Danna into his arms, holding them against him.

            “Aramys did it,” he grinned against Petra’s blonde hair.

 

* * *

 

            Sparks flew from Zildrog as the machine caught on fire, electricity spurting up into the air.  The holo flickered again as smoke filled the air around them.

            “No!” Atrius cried, reaching out to the machine.  He was brought back to his knees by a secondary explosion from the machine but never once taking his hateful eyes off of Aramys.  She stood over him, saber humming at her side.

            “I couldn’t even do that right,” Atrius chuckled darkly, “It seems you’ve won again, Outlander.  Like you always do.”

            The venom in his words made Aramys’ heart race.  She wanted so badly to strike through him, cutting him in half.  He had been the cause of everything, the instigator that had put into motion some of the worst months of her life.  This fumbling idiot at her feet was why Theron had left her.  The nights she had spent before Danna’s birth, wrapped in the blankets on her bed and crying so loudly her voice was hoarse for days.  It all came down to Atrius.

            As he cowered below her, she was broken from her twisted thought by the voice of Lana.

            “Theron’s alive, but barely!” she said.

            Aramys kept her eyes on Atrius, who kept his head hung.

            “What are you waiting for?” he hissed, “Strike the final blow!  Be the hero yet again!”

            “You didn’t just threaten the Alliance,” she said, the words falling from her lips in vaguely disguised loathing. “You endangered the galaxy, including your precious Zakuul.”

            Despite everything telling her to do as he asked, to hit him with one final blow, she clipped her saber back to her belt.  The dark that had crept into her mind was banished as she took a deep breath.  Her heart still pounded against her chest as she felt Theron’s force presence begin to weaken.  She walked behind Atrius, securing him in cuffs.

            “Let your own people decide your fate,” she said into his ear.

            “So be it,” Atrius said.

            “Oh, and this is from my daughter,” she said as she walked back in front of him.  Using the toe of her boot, she kicked Atrius square in the nose, knocking the man back.

            “Aramys, I have a team headed your way,” her father’s voice said in her ear, “Zakuul will get their prisoner.”

            “You’re safe?” Aramys asked, holding her breath.

            “We’re all fine—”

            “Aramys!” Lana shouted.  “We need to get him back to Odessen, or he won’t make it!”

              Aramys cut her father off, opening a channel to Andronikos on her ship.

            “Andronikos, we need you at our location immediately,” she said in a rush.

            “You got it,” he responded immediately.

            “He’s on his way,” crouching beside Lana.

            “See, you’re going to be fine,” Lana said to Theron, who was falling in and out of consciousness.

            “Theron,” Aramys grabbed his hand, trying her best not to look at the hole in his chest.

 

* * *

 

            The trip back to Odessen was silent.  Theron continued to drift in and out, his head resting on Aramys’ lap in the personal quarters on her ship.  She hadn’t used the bed in ages, so it was covered in a thin film of dust.  She kept her hand planted over his heart, to make sure it continued to beat.  It was the only thing telling her he was still alive; his breath was too shallow to track.

            Theron had attempted to speak a few times, each word coming out hoarser than the one before it.  Aramys would shake her head, running her fingers through his hair until he drifted off again.

            Each breath was a struggle, shaky and barely enough to make his chest rise.  His brow knotted as he took a deeper breath.

            “Her name is Danna,” Aramys whispered, answering his question from earlier.  “Danna Zho.  After our fathers.  And she still needs to meet you—So you can’t die, Theron.  You can’t.  Our daughter hasn’t met you yet.

            She held her breath, wondering if he’d try to speak again.  But he stayed quiet.  Aramys clamped her eyes shut, trying to trap any unshed tears.

            “I don’t—” he wheezed, “—hate it.”

            “Theron?” her eyes opened, just in time to see him try to crack a smile.  It fell as he choked on another cough.

            “Who’s she look like?” he asked, cracking his eyes open.

            “You,” the tears fell despite her efforts, “She looks like you.”

            “Poor kid.”

            As he tried to smile again, Aramys could see the blood on his teeth.

            “Airy, I’m sorry—”

            Aramys took her hand from his hair, cupping his paling face.  She shook her head, gritting her teeth against her tears.  A sob stuck in her throat, coming out in a terrified croak.  Theron closed his eyes, drifting back into unconsciousness.

            With the hand she had been resting on his chest, she wiped at her eye, smearing his blood across her cheek.  Her crimson stained hand hovered in front of her eyes, as she stared at it in paralyzing horror.  She could feel his blood soaking into her tunic and pants and could see it scattered on the blanket around her.  The scent of metal stung her nostrils, making bile rise into her mouth.

           

            A medical team was waiting when they landed on Odessen, rushing Theron off before Aramys even had the chance to disembark.  Frozen in her place at the bottom of the ramp, she could only think of how cruel it’d be if she lost Theron now, after all they’d been through.  With so much left to say.

            Two hands grabbed her shoulders, and her father’s concerned face came into tunnel vision.  Her eyes refused to focus on him, his voice muffled and a million parsecs away.

            “Aramys,” he said, she heard it more clearly now, “Are you alright?”

            Why was he asking her that?  Couldn’t he see she was standing there, perfectly fine?  It was Theron they needed to be worried about, not her.  He asked her again, so she nodded, her neck loose.

            “You’re covered in blood,” he said, leading her somewhere.

            “He was—He was bleeding…” she mumbled, almost incoherently.

            “Was she hurt?” Idan asked, looking up to Lana, who now stood beside her.

            “No, I don’t think so,” Lana said.

            “Shock, then,” Idan said softly, bringing her over to a crate pile where she could sit.  He knelt in front of her as she lowered herself onto the crate as he instructed.  “Aramys, can you hear me?”

            “Yes,” Aramys said.  Her face remained blank, and she continued to stare through him.  Her eyes were lackluster, and her mouth hung open.  She could hear him and see him, but she wasn’t in her own head.  She was somewhere else; she just wasn’t sure where or how she could get back.

            “We’re going to get you to the medbay too, alright?” Idan said slowly, pushing her bangs away from her eyes.  He stood, whispering to Lana, “We need another gurney down here.”

            “Already on the way.”

 

* * *

 

 

            After spending almost two days in a kolto tank, and going through multiple other procedures, Theron now lay stable in a medical bed.  He was being monitored by everyone, or so it seemed.  Senya, Koth, Lana, Jorgan, Ashara, and many others had cycled through, checking up on him and Aramys, who kept a vigil by his side.

            She had once suffered an identical injury, and still had the scars on her abdomen and back to prove it, right where Arcann impaled her on his lightsaber.  It had been a miracle that she had survived, and she even had Valkorion in her head to help.  Theron had been on his own, and still pulled through.  The fact that he had been able to hold on this long had impressed every doctor on Odessen.

            During the past few months, she had prepared herself for a life without Theron.  At one point, she had even managed to convince herself that she’d be fine without him; that she had been on her own long before him, and could easily readapt back to a life without him in it.  Single parenthood hadn’t been the plan, but there were more enough people around her to make up for Theron’s absence.

            She didn’t feel that way anymore, not when she was so close to having him back.  Believing in him despite everyone’s warnings had paid off, he had returned to them.  Only to be cut down right in front of her.

            No, he wasn’t dead yet.  He was still holding on; force be damned.

            _The force,_ she remembered.  The dreams they’d shared.  His unconscious state wasn’t the same as him sleeping, but it was worth a try.

            At the foot of his bed, she settled herself, precisely as he had shown her years ago.  He’d claimed that the Jedi technique was more beneficial to her, certainly more than the way she’d learned in the Empire.  He’d been right of course, but she’d been too prideful to admit it.

            Focusing everything on Theron, she took a slow and deep breath.  She let go of her fear and anger, clearing her connection to the force.  A familiar weight settled on her shoulders, growing heavier with each inhale.  Carefully, she closed the gap between them.

            Around her was fuzzy and gray, hanging around her like a thick and endless fog.  While she couldn’t see it through the gray, she could feel a black void around her, and her fear came creeping back.

            “Aramys?” she heard him call as she began to lose focus.  The fog was blinding in every direction.

            Hands grabbed her from behind.  Instinctively, she reached for the lightsaber that wasn’t there as she spun to confront her attacker.  Theron let go, taking a step back.

            “Theron!” she exclaimed, visibly relaxing.

            “Thank the stars,” he said, “You are—It’s you, right?  Real you?”

            “Real me,” she nodded.

            “I can’t find my way out.”

            “You’ve been hurt.”

            “I have?”

            “You don’t remember?”

            “I only remember shutting down Zildrog… Then… You're telling me that her name is Danna?  Then this.”

            “Atrius he—” she leaned against his chest, placing her hand where he’d been impaled, “He struck right through you.”

            She curled her fingers into his shirt, remembering all too well the hole that had been there.  Theron took her hand in his, unfurling her fingers.

            “I’m right here,” he said softly.  Blinking, she looked up at him.  “I’m not going anywhere.”

            “You can’t promise that, you’ve been unconscious for days—”

            “I promise,” he cut her off, squeezing her hand, “I mean,uh—If that’s okay—If you want me to—”

            “Of course I want you to,” she said.

            “You do?” he seemed surprised.

            “I’m not going to pretend you didn’t hurt me, and there are some things we’ll have to talk about, but I can’t think of a life without you in it.”

            “Will you marry me—” Theron stumbled forward as if he’d just been stuck on his back, unable to finish speaking.  Aramys steadied him, quickly becoming aware of the wound burning its way through his chest.

            “Fight it,” she grabbed onto him, “You have to fight it—”

            “I—” he gulped for air, “I can’t—”

            “Wake up!” she shouted, feeling him slip through her fingers, “You need to wake up!  Theron!  _Theron!_ ”

            He was gone just as quickly as he appeared, consumed by the suffocating fog.

            Aramys opened her eyes, finding him to be where she left him, in bed and still unconscious.  He didn’t appear to be in any kind of distress, not like he had been in their dream.

            “You promised,” she said into her hands as she brought them to her face.

 

* * *

 

 

            In the hangar, Aramys met with Lana before starting her day.  Danna was nestled into her arms, sucking on her pacifier.  The base had yet to awaken, everyone except the skeleton crew still sleeping.  The hangar was empty, and Aramys appreciated the quiet.

            “Any word on Theron?” Lana asked.

            “No, but I haven’t gone down to see him yet.  His injury’s healing just fine, but he still won’t wake up.”

            “I’m sure he will, he’s made it this far,”

            “I hope your right.” Aramys mumbled, “So how many people did we lose?”

            “No Alliance casualties, actually.  Your father did a wonderful job of holding the place together.”

            “Turns out he really does know what he’s doing,” Aramys said.

            “There’s minimal damage here, but we stopped an ancient machine from destroying half the galaxy, so I think we’ll be alright.  I received several apologies from several factions associated with the Order.”

            “We need to face the reality that the fleet and the Gravestone are gone.  Without them, we’re little more than a group of rebels.” Aramys grumbled, adjusting the way she was holding Danna.

            “The future of the Alliance is uncertain, to say the least,” Lana said, exhaling quickly, “What happened on Nathema is proof that we need to make a change.”

            “I never wanted this to last forever,” Aramys looked down at Danna affectionately, “There’s more to life than leading the galaxy.”

            “I think I’m finished as a spymaster for a while myself,” Lana said in agreement.  “I can imagine that the Empire and the Republic will double down on their war efforts now.  We may have to consider who we’ll support when the time comes.

            Playfully, Aramys looked up at her.

            “I hope you’re comfortable working for the Republic,” she said with a smirk.

            “As long as they’re comfortable with my interrogation tactics, I think we’ll get along fine.  You know, I think we deserve this break from ruling the galaxy—”

            “Oh like you’ve ever taken a break in your life,” a voice cut in.

            Aramys turned on her heel, seeing Theron come hobbling toward them.

            “Theron, you’re awake?!” Aramys’ eyes lit up, a smile gracing her lips.

            “Woke up last night, told them not to wake you,” Theron said.  Over a black t-shirt, he wore the jacket he’d been stabbed in, a hole gaping in the back.  He came to stand beside her, looking down into her arms. “Figured you could use all the sleep you could get.  Whoo, it’s been a while since I’ve seen this place.”

            “Oh—uh, yes, not too much has changed,” Aramys said, suddenly finding herself to be nervous.  So many ways she’d pictured introducing Theron to their daughter, but none of them had been like this.  She wasn’t prepared yet.

            “I can think of a couple of big changes,” Lana eyed them.

            “Yeah,” Theron said, looking back into Aramys’ arms.

            “Lana, can you give us a moment?” Aramys asked.

            “Happily,” Lana said, needing no incentive.

            “Wanna, uh, walk me back to the medbay?  I told that stupid droid I would only take a walk.”

            “Sure, absolutely,” Aramys said, “Do you need help?”

            “No, I got it,” Theron assured her, still limping.  She only had to steady him four times on their way back.  The trip was silent, neither wanting to talk about the blanket wrapped infant in Aramys’ arms until they were entirely alone.

            Hoping back into his bed, Theron removed the ruined jacket.

            “Guess I’ll have to get a new one,” he said.

            “I’m sure we can find something nice,” she took the jacket with her free hand, draping it over the chair behind her.

            “She’s quiet, huh?” Theron said, at last mentioning the proverbial bantha in the room.

            “Not usually,” Aramys rocked her.  “But she was up all night, so she’s probably tired.  Not as tired as me, though.”

            “So, can I see her?” Theron asked, hoping not to overstep any boundaries he’d forced between them.

            “Yes, of course,” Aramys flew to his bedside, delicately placing the infant in his arms.  “Hold her head, like that, perfect.”

            “She’s so—” Theron’s breath hitched, “—She’s tiny.”

            “Ha,” Aramys snorted, “Hardly.  She weighed nine pounds when she was born.”

            “Is that big?” Theron said, honestly not sure.

            “Yeah, that’s pretty kriffing big,” Aramys’ eyes widened.  “For me, anyway.”

            “Oh,” Theron’s face grew hot, feeling the tiniest bit stupid for not knowing.

            “She looks just like you, I think,” Aramys said, pulling herself up onto his bed, dangling her legs over the side.

            “Really?  You can tell that already?” Theron said, inspecting his daughter’s face.  She felt so warm in his arms, staring up at him with her comically large head, sucking away on her blue pacifier.  “She’s got my eyes, I guess.”

            “Are you kidding?  She definitely has your eyes; she’s even got those little green flecks in her iris like you, see?”

            “I wasn’t aware I had green flecks.”

            “You do.” Aramys smiled, placing a loving hand on his arm.

            “She’s got your hair, look at it all,” Theron chuckled, using a free hand to spike the hair at the top of Danna’s head.  “Now she looks like me.”

            “Speaking of which, you’re going to grow yours out, right?” Aramys frowned.

            “Don’t like my traitor-hawk?” Theron said wryly.

            “Not a bit,” Aramys shook her head.  “Also, never call it that again.”

            “I’ll grow it back out.” Theron sighed.

 

* * *

 

1 Week Later

           

            Idan searched the base looking for the man who had fathered his granddaughter.  It was a little funny to him, how Theron had avoided him thus far, just as Aramys had avoided him upon his return.  Perhaps they really were perfect for each other as Petra had suggested.  So far, they both seemed to be masters at evasion.  It was early enough that he didn’t expect to find anyone in the War Room, but as he stepped off the elevator, he saw the back of the person he’d been searching for.

            “Theron?” Idan cleared his throat, coming to stand behind him.  The younger man jumped, whipping around.  “Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.”

            “You didn’t—uh.  I’m fine.”

            “I was hoping to have a long overdue word with you?”

 

            Theron felt a lump form in his throat.  Only having been given a clean bill of health, and approval to return to duty, he was hoping he’d have a few more days before having to face Aramys’ father.  He hadn’t really ever talked to a father before, including his own, but he already knew he was no good at it.  The only person he’d ever been halfway decent talking to was Aramys.  And he still managed to screw that up.

            “Yeah, sure, let’s do it,” he had to force himself to stop talking.  This was going to be so much worse than he expected.  Even with all the information Aramys had drilled into his head the past few days.  The intertwined family drama that neither of them had much influence on themselves.  Her father blaming his mother for his imprisonment, his father rescuing her father from said prison, it was really too much to wrap his head around.  Especially since up until now, his family related problems were overall minimal.

            “You just wake up?” Idan asked, starting easy.

            “Uh, never went to sleep.  I’m still all screwed up from the—” he trailed off, “What about you?  Early bird catches the… fish or whatever.”

            “Still on Coruscant time, I’m afraid,” Idan said.

            Theron let out a sharp laugh, which ended up sounding more like a yelp.  Idan’s eyes widened, looking at him in bewilderment.

            “Sorry,” Theron lowered his voice.

            “You have nothing to be nervous about…”

            “Nervous?” Theron said, his voice more clipped than he intended, “Who’s nervous.”

            Idan’s face went vacant, “You don’t have to be a Jedi Master to sense what’s coming off of you right now.”

            “But I thought you were a Jedi Master,” Theron cursed himself again, urging himself to shut the hell up.

            “Petra was right; you’re absolutely Aramys’ soulmate.” Deadpan again, Idan watched Theron begin to squirm.

            “So, can I help you with something?” Theron asked anxiously.

            “Can you blame me for wanting to meet the man who impregnated my daughter?” Idan said bluntly.

            “Uh, no,” Theron glanced around the room, hoping to spot someone.  But they were alone.

            “I’m sorry,” Idan said, “I’m really not very good at this, I’ve never done this kind of thing before…”

            “I think I’d be more worried if you had confronted more than one guy about fathering your granddaughter before.”

            “Fair point,” Idan laughed.  Theron felt a little more at ease, knowing Idan was just as clueless as he was.  “Start over?”

            “Gladly.”

            “Idan Lumielle, I’m Aramys’ father.” Idan held out his hand.

            “Theron Shan, I’m--Danna’s father.” Theron shook Idan’s hand firmly.

            “Pleasure to finally meet you.”

            “Yeah, super psyched to hear you’re not dead.”  _Damn it._

“No one’s happier to squash that rumor than me, I assure you.  I hear I have your father to thank for breaking me out.  He didn’t mention that we were sharing a granddaughter.”

            “Probably didn’t want to put you on the spot.”  _Like you put me_ , Theron thought.

            “Right, well, uh—” Idan withdrew his hand from Theron’s.  Neither of them had meant to shake hands that long.  “I should get—Better get going.”

            “Oh, sure, yeah.”

            “Just, uh, one thing.”

            “Yup?” Theron said.

            “Are you going to marry Aramys?”

            Theron stammered, feeling a little cornered.  If he said no, he’d look like an idiot.  If he said yes, he’d have to deliver on the promise.  He already intended to, it had been his plan since the moment he held Danna, but the added pressure of Idan knowing made it seem almost too much.

            “No pressure, son,” Idan put a reassuring hand on Theron’s shoulder.  He was a little shorter than him, so it was a little bit of a reach, but Idan smiled at him.  “As long as Aramys is happy, so am I.”

            “Is she?” Theron blurted, “Happy?”

            “The only thing I’ve ever seen her look at in complete adoration in a raggedy stuff dog she couldn’t sleep without as a child.  Until I saw her look at you.”  Idan said, “I think she is now.”

            “I plan to, at some point.  Ask her, I mean.” Theron said, scrubbing at the back of his neck.

            “Not that you were looking for it, but you have my blessing.  She went through the ringer to convince me you weren’t a traitor.  She was so sure.  Clearly, she knows you better than we all thought.”

            “I wasn’t so sure for a while,”

            “You’ll have plenty of time to make up for it now,” Idan said, grinning up at him.

            Even all the time in the galaxy didn’t seem like enough, but Theron had every intention to use the rest of his life trying.

 

* * *

 

Several Hours Later

 

            “Where’s Danna?” Aramys asked, meeting Theron on the catwalk to leading to her ship.

            “With Lana,” Theron said, taking a deep breath.  “I was hoping we could maybe take a walk or something?  Have that talk we’ve been meaning to have?”

            “I suppose,” Aramys nodded.

            “You look nice,” Theron said, walking beside her towards the meadow behind the ship.

            “Theron, what’s going on?” Aramys pushed aside the small talk, knowing him better than that.

            “I was, um—I wanted to apologize for what I put you through,”

            “Theron,”

            “No, let me finish,” Theron said, “It was reckless and stupid, and I almost cost us _everything._   I’ve done nothing to deserve the trust you’ve shown me, not from you, not from Lana, your father, or anyone else.  I did it to protect the Alliance, and protect you—But you have my word that I’ll never try to pull something like that again… If you’ll allow it, I’ll do everything I can to earn my place back at your side—”

            “Theron, stop,” Aramys put a hand on his forearm, “I already know all that, there’s always a place for you here, with me.”

            “That’s—That’s a relief because I have no idea what I would’ve done if you’d said no.”

            “Theron, what’s this really about?  You’ve already apologized to me, to the Alliance.  What’s going on?”

            “I’ll be honest with you,” Theron said, turning into a patch of wildflowers, “Leaving you there, on Umbara, it was easily the hardest thing I’ve ever done.  And even if you forgive me, I don’t think I will ever be able to forgive myself for what I did. Then I found out you were pregnant, and I still stayed away—”

            “Yes, that hurt a bit,” Aramys said to the ground.

            “I don’t—I know I don’t deserve it, but I miss you so much and I—Can you give your idiot spy-boyfriend one more chance?”

            “Idiot spy-boyfrien—” Aramys let a laugh escape her.  “You’ve got the idiot part right.  You don’t need another chance, Theron.  I never stopped loving you.”

            Theron wrapped his arms around her, spinning her in the air.

            “I will spend the rest of my life showing you how much I love you—And Danna,” he put her back on her feet, taking her chin in his hand and tilting her head up.

            “Is this another marriage proposal?” Aramys teased.

            “Another?”

            “You already asked me to marry you,”

            “I did?”

            “In our dream-thing—” Aramys whirled her finger in the air between them, “You don’t remember?”

            “I—No, I don’t,” Theron chuckled nervously.  “What, uh—What’d you say?”

            Aramys flashed an impish smile, and Theron immediately knew she was about to toy with him again.

            “Maybe you should ask me again, and find out?” she grinned, “I didn’t have a chance to answer you the first time anyway.”

            “You really can’t just give me the answer now?”

            “Tick, tock, Theron.”

            “Aramys, will you, well—Would you—” he looked at the ground, then at a tree, everywhere but at her.

            “Is this really that difficult for you?”

            “Look, just—Just marry me?” Theron threw his hands out at his sides in exasperation.

            “I have to admit, the first one was better,” she sighed, faking disappointment.

            “Please?”

            “Of course I will, you ass,” she stood on her toes, hands against his chest for support.

            “Gotta watch that mouth of yours, with the baby and—” Theron grinned as she tilted his head down to kiss her, her hand on the back of his neck.

            “What was that about my mouth?” she pulled away from their kiss, hovering her mouth millimeters from his.

            “Nothing,” he said, pulling her back against him.

 


End file.
